[Note added 9/14/00: Since I tried to memorize the speech beforehand, rather than looking at my notes while I was speaking, the actual speech I gave deviated from this one slightly. In particular, I think I forgot most of the middle of the paragraph beginning "So far, things have worked well. I went on a wonderful road trip . . . " and the same for the paragraph right after that.]
Ladies and gentlemen, as some of you may recall, my actual birthdate is August 27th. Last year, I had a joint birthday party with a friend of mine whose birthday is August 29th. The symmetry was mathematically perfect: she was turning 27 on the 29th, and I was turning 29 on the 27th.
After that, what does one do for a mathematically perfect encore? Why, one splits the difference: this year I am sharing my birthday festivities with Joshua Madden, who officially turned 28 this past July 28th.
It does not take a quantum physicist to figure out that thus, this year I must be turning 30. What do I do for myself, in honor of this milestone? Well, first, I survive the actual event.
Show the back of my orange T-shirt.
Hey, I am not just wearing this moose for no reason!
Ah, but there's more to it than that . . . In 1999 I read some piece in which the author said that it did not much matter what you were doing at 20 or 25 . . . but whatever you were doing at 30, you'd be doing for the rest of your life.
Now I know that some folks will disagree with that. But I took it as a challenge. Could I fix it so that when I turned 30, my life was, if not totally set, at least headed where I wanted it to head?
Now add to this challenge all the millennial sentiments attached to the year 2000. Some . . . associates of mine said that last New Year's Eve would just be a dry run for this December 31st, since the twentieth century won't officially end until 2001.
This idea, too, took root in my head. I have always had a hard time sticking to New Year's Resolutions, even when I really believed in them. Last year I vowed that the year 2000 would be different. I would not allow backsliding to get me off track. I would treat the whole year as a dry run for the great things to come. I was so intent on this that I even posted my New Year's Resolutions on my kitchen wall, as some of you can attest. That way, they would be in my face all the time.
30 years . . . whew! Almost a third of a century. Almost a 30-eth of a millennium. 30 years. It has been a long road for me to get here, and it is still not even the square root of the elapsed time since the Norman Conquest.
So far, things have worked well. I went on a wonderful road trip through southern Canada about a month ago. That, and many other things that have happened recently, have helped straighten my head out. I have been reading Hanta Yo, and many other books about spiritual journeys, in an attempt to place where I am and what I am going through in a larger context. I am engaged in ongoing large-scale art for the first time ever in my life, and that too has helped.
There is much in the past that I would like to close the door on. My past, and society's as well. The new millennium that will begin in January inspired me to take an entire year to make some changes, and that has been a good choice. When the inertia and static friction are large enough, I cannot get anywhere in one big heave; I need to apply constant pressure over time to achieve the results I want. This would have been equally true five years ago or five years from now; it is just that the Big Roll-Over gave me the initial necessary push. I hope that the new millennium will motivate us all to let go of old mistakes and reach instead for the better roads that we can envision.
The fact that I am even here, now, speaking to you, is a testament as well to the stance I decided that the moment had come to take. I have an enormous dislike for the actual process of organizing parties. Someone who cannot be here tonight asked me why, given all the fits and painful ranting I go through when putting on a get-together, I still go and do it from time to time. Well, partly it is to see if I can. The answer to that so far seems to be yes: I went to more trouble for this party than for any other social function I have ever hosted, jointly or otherwise, and I have not gone permanently around the bend.
But the rest of the answer is right here in the room with me. The people that I invited to this party go all the way from my family, and friends I had when I was a kid, up through highschool, undergraduate college, graduate school and the past six years of post-university life. The fact that you are all here today --- and in my life --- means a lot to me. Your ongoing presence and support has been not only appreciated but indispensable. Thank you all for coming, and let's [get on with the party]!
(Last updated 9/10/02000)